


Season's Satisfaction

by Nomanono



Series: In Season [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Comfort, First Time, Inexperienced/Experienced, M/M, Sweet/Hot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 19:18:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11653011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nomanono/pseuds/Nomanono
Summary: "He took your scent.” Victor said. “He’s interested in you. He’s saying he’d bend for you, if you wanted.”“Y-you mean — ““It would be nice, wouldn’t it?” Victor asked. “To have someone your body actually wants to be with?”





	Season's Satisfaction

**Author's Note:**

> Oh gosh, I did the thing where I couldn't get it out of my head, and then verity went and requested really sweet dog sex. So, here we are. 
> 
> This story happens a year or two (or a few) after [Coming Into Season](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11592402). Victor and Yuri have continued their little arrangement, and all's going well...ish. 
> 
> Special thanks to [verity](http://archiveofourown.org/users/verity/pseuds/verity) and [Sintina](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Sintina/pseuds/Sintina) for editing <3 <3 <3 <3

Barcelona was beautiful, even in the winter, and made all the more so by the hyper-awareness that always preceded Yuri’s rut.

It should have started today, completely ruining his chances at the Grand Prix Final, but Yuri’s cycles were regular enough to be predictable, and as soon as he’d seen the upcoming overlap, he’d gone to Victor for solutions.

AlphX, while clinically approved, was rarely recommended. Delaying a cycle usually resulted in increased intensity when the blockers finally wore off, and reports of post-block alphas going on rampages were too common for comfort. Even the idea of it made Yuri shudder, but this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. Victor would be there, after, if Yuri needed.

He’d taken his first pill the night they arrived, but while it prevented the maddening lust it didn’t dampen his heightened sensitivity to the bodies and scents around him - and his own. His non-betnik fans tracked him easily, and he found himself hiding in an alley, doing everything he could to avoid them. He didn’t want this part of his life to be public.

That was when Otabek Altin stopped beside him on a motorbike and offered him a helmet.

Otabek Altin, who’d just _stared_ at him last night at the hotel, like an asshole.

Otabek Altin, who was now offering him a way out, an escape from the invasive attention of fans (who even now he heard shouting for him, closing in on him).

Otabek Altin, who made Yuri’s face flush as he climbed behind him on the bike and hugged his waist.

Yuri didn’t even realize it at first, what Otabek was, but as he gazed skyward and the scent off Otabek’s hair blew into his nose he recognized the seductive scent of an _omečko_.

He trailed Otabek through Park Güell, up stairs lined with Gaudí’s lizards and between Seussian mosaics. A musician played a saucer-shaped lap drum in an alcove, echoes following them until they reached the overlook.

How could being with Otabek make Yuri feel simultaneously so calm and so utterly energized?

He found himself lingering close to Otabek, leaning on the rail beside him in silence wondering why in hell Otabek saved him, brought him here. And then, as if reading his mind, Otabek told him the story.

“A soldier?” Yuri whispered.

Otabek extended his hand, and asked to be his friend, and Yuri found himself fascinated by the soft-and-hard texture of Otabek’s leather glove.

Victor and Yuuri caught them afterwards, sharing tea, Yuri leaning forward unconsciously to listen to Otabek’s story and get closer to that scent. Victor and Yuuri invited themselves into Otabek and Yuri’s privacy, which just made Yuri want to kill Victor all over again, and Yuuri’s mix of way-too-confusing smells didn’t help either.

Yuri growled when Victor got close to his new friend.

“Easy, Yuri,” Victor grinned, palm out amicably. “We just want to get dinner.”

Yuri spent most of the dinner trying not to stare and sniff at Otabek. Otabek who kept catching him staring anyway.

He tossed and turned in bed that night.

All he could think about was Otabek. All he could smell was Otabek. He kept hugging his jacket to his nose like maybe some of Otabek’s scent had rubbed off, mixed in with the thick tang of leather. Then he pushed the jacket between his legs and ground into it until he came.

He slept longer and deeper than he had in weeks.

Before Yuri went on the ice the next day Otabek offered him a thumbs up. It wasn’t much, but Otabek Altin wasn’t the most expressive person in the world, and even that simple gesture, that basic acknowledgment, made Yuri’s chest lift and ache with pride. Otabek was watching him! He’d never so desperately wanted to impress someone the way he wanted to impress Otabek. He wanted to be strong for Otabek. He wanted to be handsome for Otabek. He wanted to be worthy of Otabek’s time and attention and affection.

As the music rose, every cell of his body tingled with life.

He didn’t believe it when the board said ‘World Record,’ but the first person he ran to from the kiss and cry was Otabek.

“Did you see?” Yuri asked. _Were you watching me?_

Otabek looked at him, corner of his lips cocked back in an almost-smile. He wrapped an arm around Yuri’s shoulders as they walked together.

“Of course.” And Yuri couldn’t help twisting his head, nose almost touching Otabek’s wrist where the scent was so strong. Otabek gave Yuri a hard look, similar to the stare their first night in Barcelona, only now Yuri knew it meant thought and consideration, not malice.

When he pulled away, Otabek brushed his wrist on the back of Yuri’s neck, through the sweaty base of his hair.

At first, Yuri didn’t think anything of it. They were professional athletes. Sweat was common as breathing.

But then he realized, as Otabek walked away: he’d taken Yuri’s scent. Not just taken it, but rubbed it onto one of the strongest signaling spots on his body. Otabek was carrying around Yuri’s hormones, like wearing a second costume as he stepped out onto the ice.

“Wow,” Victor whistled as Yuri flopped into the seat behind him. Victor, on the other hand, smelled like fresh go-fuck-yourself. “Finally find the _omečko_ of your dreams?”

“What?” Yuri growled.

Victor twisted in his seat, thoughtful but bright-eyed. “I can smell him on you —  early pre-heat, too. Watch out, Yuri.” Victor winked.

Yuri’s brow furrowed, but before Victor could expand on his warning they announced Otabek’s name.

“Davai!” Yuri called out, and Otabek lifted his wrist, thumbs up.

Yuri took his blockers that evening after dinner, playing on his phone while Yakov and Lilia ate (Lilia watched Yuri try to hide the pill and cracked her eyebrow at him, all too familiar with his scent. That Lilia _knew_ was one of the more mortifying realities of Yuri’s life.)

He jumped out of his seat when he heard the click of cameras in the lobby that undoubtedly meant Victor’s return. He squeaked into the elevator with them at the last moment.

“What did you mean? About Otabek?” Yuri asked.

Victor gave a fond laugh: “Really, Yuri? He took your scent.” Victor had his arm draped at Yuuri’s waist, Yuuri who was looking far more _omečko_ today, cuddled into Victor’s side, than he had during his short program. “He’s interested in you. He’s saying he’d bend for you, if you wanted.”

“Y-you mean — “

“It would be nice, wouldn’t it?” Victor asked. “To have someone your body actually wants to be with?”

Yuri went bright red. The elevator dinged and Yuri realized he hadn’t even brought his card. “Wait!” He held the elevator door open, and Victor looked back over his shoulder. “What do I do?” Yuri asked, desperate.

“Do you like him?” Victor laughed. “Try nipping his neck,” Victor winked, and to illustrate he made Yuuri pause, leaned over him and took a quick little bite near the veins of his throat. Yuuri yelped, but it didn’t sound anything like pain. Yuuri grabbed onto Victor, hands tight at his hips.

“ _Victor_ ,” Yuuri warned, and then the door slid shut.

No matter how hard Yuri tried that night, touching himself was pleasureless and incomplete. Even with the blockers, his body ached, and there was nothing he could do to relieve it.

“You look tired,” Yakov said when he came out of the changing room, decorated in black and striped with uncomfortably appropriate flames of red and pink passion.

“I’m fine.”

Victor sent him a look of sympathy that just made Yuri growl.

When he skated off the ice, a mess of emotion — tears and lust and the taut tension of his dance belt — he cared less about his score than the man in the Kazakhstan jacket. He’d done everything he wanted to. Won exactly as he’d planned. He held his flowers on the podium, golden ring around his neck, but his attention was on Otabek, heart pounding, blockers not enough to keep him completely clear-headed.

By the time he got away from the press, away from Yakov and Lilia and even Victor, Otabek was gone.

He talked to more people than he ever wanted to before tracking Otabek to a club, and once there he picked Otabek’s scent from the crowd like a neon sign. He snuck in amongst the moving mass, shaking with the intensity of his hormones, and finally realized why he couldn’t find Otabek in the throngs of thriving, gyrating bodies.

Otabek was above them, playing for them, directing their limbs with his music. When he saw Yuri, after a brief flash of surprise, he played for him too.

They met outside afterwards, sat on a bench while Yuri tried not to go crazy.

“You’re on blockers?” Otabek asked.

“Wh —- how’d you…?”

Otabek looked at him funny. “I have a nose.”

Yuri tried not to let his embarrassment show. “Yeah. I was supposed to, uh, cycle… right at the start of the GPF.” He’d never talked to anyone but Victor about this before. His veins felt like a speedway, blood careening through on nitro.

Otabek tilted his head, like sizing Yuri up, and then leaned over and brushed his cheek together with Yuri’s, the softest rumble in Otabek’s throat.

Yuri’s system overloaded.

It wasn’t a growl, not like Victor’s, who was constantly tense and aware and holding back when they were in bed. It was like- it reminded him of Potya, that content vibration whenever Yuri scratched beneath her ears or over the bulbs of her cheeks.

On instinct Yuri nuzzled back, his growl not quite so endearing as Otabek’s fond purr. He twined his neck with Otabek’s and snuffed through Otabek’s hair, affectionate and desirous and oh, god, Otabek.

Otabek lifted his chin, baring his neck, and after a second of stunned silence Yuri realized Otabek was waiting.

Offering.

Yuri stared at that sweet skin, swore he could see the pulse beneath it. He wanted to taste that, own that. He leaned in, eyes fluttering shut as his lips parted, and grazed his teeth over Otabek’s throat.

Otabek groaned. His hand tangled into Yuri’s hair again, holding him there, pressing into Yuri’s performed aggression. Yuri tightened his jaw, felt the way it made Otabek’s body ripple against his own. Never had anything felt so _right_ before.

He kept listening for Victor’s growl, anticipating the pain of teeth on his neck, hands grabbing his shoulders or pinning his chest. But there was nothing. Only Otabek, arching towards him, rumbling in his throat, wanting.

“O-Otabek I’m — I’ve never —“ Yuri started. His mouth was so dry; he couldn’t even swallow.

Otabek paused, eyes wide with surprise. “This is your first rut?”

“No, I —“ Yuri blushed. “I’ve cycled before just not…Victor’s always helped me.”

“You’re a switch?” Otabek blinked, taking a deep breath of Yuri’s scent like he’d missed something.

“No, I’m an alpha —“

“With another alpha?” Otabek looked incredulous. “Why not a parlor? Or anyone else? Even a betnik would have —“

“I don’t know,” Yuri frowned. “I didn’t want to get distracted? Skating’s my life and…” he shrugged his shoulders. His thoughts felt so sluggish, vulnerable. The blockers were wearing off and Otabek was intoxicating. He wanted to… “I needed to show everyone what I could do. At my best. And I still…”

His lips curled, remembering his hand on the ice. “I still could have done better.”

Otabek was quiet for a long time, then set his hand on Yuri’s thigh, so calm Yuri felt utterly foolish in comparison. He growled, but Otabek didn’t change his position. If anything he lowered his shoulder, extending the stretch of his throat once more.

Just as Yuri was leaning in again, his phone buzzed. They both looked down, the little alert appearing on his screen before he could hide it:

_Take AlphX_

Yuri stared at the alert, then back to Otabek. He wanted nothing more than to be with Otabek, and Otabek read it plain as day on Yuri’s face.

“Your exhibition…” Otabek reminded him.

Yuri fingered the little plastic and foil packet in his wallet, chewing on his lip. The thought of Lilia’s choreography made him grimace. That? _That_ over Otabek?

Yuri shook his head, twisting the packet.  He scraped his nail on the foil, leaving a smooth indented track over the pill pocket.

“I want…” Yuri started, squeezing Otabek’s hand. “I don’t want to be with Victor this time.”

Otabek listened, nodded, brushed his cheek against Yuri’s hair. “OK.” He took the packet from Yuri, cracked the foil from the back, and held the little white pill to Yuri’s mouth. “Then take this. And let’s make tomorrow your very best.” Otabek’s eyes glinted with that stoic fondness. “That way, after, you can do whatever you want.”

Yuri would remember that night for the rest of his life. They snuck back into the rink, choreographed an entire new routine in a flash of madness, and the whole time Yuri’s chest was throbbing from something entirely separate from hormones.

He performed after Yuuri and Victor, even pulled Otabek into the rink with him.

The routine was everything Yuri felt, all of the chaotic energy and wild desire and sexual need constantly bubbling inside of him. He threw away his glasses, jacket, bent until his back nearly touched the ice. He groaned as Otabek’s teeth caught his glove and ripped it off.

The next thing Yuri knew he was staring at Otabek through the finely decorated crowds of the banquet, and the blink after that Otabek was right in front of him.

Yuri pulled out his phone as it buzzed.

_Take AlphX_

Yuri glanced up at Otabek, who just looked expectant.

“Did you do your best today?” Otabek asked.

“Yes,” Yuri said. There was that molasses again, that sluggish responsiveness in his muscles, like added pounds on his bones. The heaviness of Otabek’s scent weighed him down, turning his brain to mush. Otabek knew what he was doing, just like Victor always knew, but when Otabek brushed his hand through Yuri’s hair, wrist so close to Yuri’s nose, Yuri felt an overwhelming _gentleness_ he never had with his mentor and rival. 

Everyone at the banquet was watching, but Yuri couldn’t care anymore; they watched his masculine mating display on the ice hours ago, after all. And maybe because of that earlier buildup, the audience fueled Otabek. The _omečko_ took a step forward, firmly into Yuri’s personal space, while Yuri was still reeling from the heady scent.

“Then?” Otabek said. He offered his hand palm down, relaxed and ready. “Take me to your room.”

Even through his daze, Yuri was acutely aware of what Otabek was giving him and all the expectation that went along with it. Every time Victor had suggested it before, Yuri’s first emotion was fear, apprehension. He wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready to just… to lose himself so completely with someone. To be so vulnerable with them. But with Otabek?

God, he’d never wanted anything the way he wanted...

“Otabek —“ Yuri started, struggling to fit the words together. Without a new dose his hormones were returning like a tidal wave.  “I want—“

“I know” Otabek reassured him. Yuri could hear and feel every breath Otabek took. He clasped Otabek’s hand, pulled him from the banquet hall as he fumbled for his key card. There were more than a few knowing smirks, but Yuri was laser-focused on the elevator. It was all he could do to keep from throwing Otabek to the ground. When the door dinged Victor and Yuuri were there, Yuuri drenched in Victor’s scent head to toe, and the defensive roar was out of Yuri’s throat before he knew what he was doing.

Victor returned the challenge on instinct, would have leapt for Yuri if Yuuri and Otabek hadn’t moved simultaneously to stand between their alphas, reminding them what to focus on.

Yuri snarled at the offensive odor, wafting out at him like a physical threat while Victor, far more controlled after his snap reaction, just looked away and drew Yuuri from the elevator. Yuri waited for the next one, and in the meantime watched Victor disappear into the banquet hall, his arm locked in a protective circle around Yuuri’s waist, leading his love away.

It had a sobering effect on Yuri, who bit his lip and stared at the light above the elevator as it slowly, painfully ticked through the floors. Otabek was against him, gently nuzzling his cheek, exchanging scents, soaking up Yuri’s smell. Victor had looked so in _control_ of Yuuri, and Yuri just felt — he swooned, steadying himself on the elevator bar. Was he really going to do this?

He’d only ever been with Victor before; he’d never —

“I’ve been on blockers for days,” Yuri choked. “I don’t want to hurt you.“

“Yuri,” Otabek stopped him. He kissed Yuri, soft and gentle, then rubbed his nose behind Yuri’s ear and at his neck and the scent was like a drug. There was that _purr_ again and Yuri’s knees nearly gave out. “I won’t resist you.”

They walked together down the hall, Yuri holding Otabek’s hand a little too tight as he tried to mimic Victor. Victor had led Yuuri, protective and caring. Yuri tried to lead Otabek the same way, as if he had any idea what he was doing. His thumb brushed the back of Otabek’s hand.

He could do this. He could do this.

He swiped his card and guided Otabek inside, resting his sweaty forehead on the door after he’d closed it.

“I don’t have any um — I wasn’t planning on —“ Yuri said to the door.

“I’m on the pill.”

Right, right. Most people - most other people - did this more often. Were _prepared_. Didn’t rely on their rink mate not to annihilate them.

When Yuri turned around Otabek was hanging up his jacket, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his dress shirt. He got down to his undershirt, then took that off too, scrubbing his neck and under his arms with the material before tossing the bundled thing towards Yuri. Yuri caught it, brought it to his nose without thinking, and his hips jerked on instinct as he was suddenly consumed by the leathery, gasoline-tinged, metal-tang stench of Otabek’s world.

He needed to get out of his clothes before he ruined his pants. He didn’t want to let go of the shirt, of that bundled package of Otabek’s essence. He wanted to put it on his dick and come in it, or —

“You don’t mark,” Otabek mused, and the words barely made it through the desirous fog in Yuri’s head.

Yuri blinked, glanced at the corners of the room where there were tiny plastic scent-holders, all of them equipped with unused cotton cylinders.

It had never occurred to Yuri to use them. He’d never had territory he wanted to claim, not until now. Perhaps living in Lilia’s house had deadened him to that to desire, or only ever being in rut when he was with another alpha.

“Should I?” Yuri asked.

Otabek shrugged. “Only if it feels right.” He pulled out his belt. “I like being surrounded by my mate’s smell when I’m in heat. It feels safe.”

“I want to make you feel safe.”

“Then come mate with me already,” Otabek said, with that same almost-emotionless determination with which he asked Yuri to be his friend.

Yuri really, really needed to get undressed. He tugged at his tie, but got too frustrated before he could take it off. When he crawled onto the bed he’d managed to get off his pants and shoes and jacket, but his dress shirt was still loosely buttoned, tie swinging around his neck, and his briefs bulged - both with cock and Otabek’s undershirt, which he’d mindlessly tucked under the elastic band.

Otabek greeted him with a kiss, arm hooked around Yuri’s shoulders. Yuri growled, teeth coming out and nipping properly at Otabek’s neck. Yuri left a dozen sharp, quick bites along Otabek’s throat, and instead of growling or fighting like Victor Otabek just arched his neck, gasping, and moaned.

“Yuri - let me —“ Otabek didn’t try to get away, exactly, just shifted, but Yuri snapped at him and grabbed his wrists the way Victor always grabbed Yuri’s. He snarled near Otabek’s ear.

“OK, OK,” Otabek relaxed, muscles going soft under Yuri’s hold, not showing any hint of resistance. Otabek kissed Yuri’s temple, purred again.

“Take off my clothes,” Otabek said.

Yuri lived in a blurry world of instinct and sensation. He panted against Otabek’s throat, and Otabek had to repeat himself another two times before it finally clicked with Yuri. He reached between Otabek’s legs, clawing at the material there.

When Otabek’s briefs came off the scent of him doubled, suddenly raw and uninhibited and Yuri dug his fingers into the fabric in desperation, lifting it two handed to his nose.

While Yuri was distracted, Otabek twisted onto his stomach. When Yuri turned his attention to Otabek again, Otabek rose to all fours. He spread his knees shoulder width apart, a beautiful display for Yuri, whose nose started snuffing and inhaling a mile a minute, open-mouthed and intoxicated.

Yuri _needed_ it.

Otabek’s ass was the most beautiful thing Yuri had ever seen, the centerpiece of it gleaming and swollen and red. Of course Otabek hadn’t been immune to Yuri’s hormones, but Yuri didn’t realize just how much he’d affected Otabek until he saw the heart-stopping result.

He all but fell between Otabek’s cheeks, mouth open, tongue dragging along the inner curve of Otabek’s glutes and then across that beautiful plump muscle. He wanted to consume the taste, to get all of it inside of him, and it made him wild.

The muscle tightened and then opened wide, flashing the inner red at Yuri, winking like an invitation to the greatest secret of Yuri’s life.

Otabek was perfect. Otabek was the most incredible being Yuri had ever met.

Yuri was going to fuck Otabek’s brains out.

Yuri licked and licked and every pass of his tongue soaked up more of the ambrosia Otabek’s body was secreting.

“I’m ready,” Otabek panted. “Yuri, I’m yours.”

The fabric of Yuri’s underwear tore in his hurry to get it off. He had just enough time to blink at Otabek before he was rearing up behind him, replacing his mouth with his engorged, angry cock.

Otabek’s asshole flicked open again in anticipation, quivering with need.

As eager and inexperienced as he was, it took Yuri several frustrated thrusts (sliding up between Otabek’s cheeks, slipping down along his taint) before he hit his mark and drove home.

It felt like someone had slammed a steel pylon into his chest, momentarily breathless as the sheer beauty and satisfaction knocked the wind out of him. He choked, grasping Otabek around the waist, chest flattened to Otabek’s back as he shuddered. Otabek was saying something, encouragement or gratification, something Yuri couldn’t understand through the haze of his rut.

His cock had only ever felt Victor’s hand before. Now suddenly it was engulfed in heat, incredible soft wet heat that smelled like heaven instead of the double edged blade of Victor’s restraint. Instinct kept his hips moving, poking in and out of that perfect home. He growled to Otabek, kept grazing his teeth on Otabek’s shoulder. He felt his knot bucking up against the tightness of Otabek’s ass.

He needed inside.

He would die if he didn’t get inside.

He thrust harder, until that tightness started to spread around his knot, more, more, and then as Otabek cried out in pleasure it popped inside. His knot somehow continued to inflate, while Yuri was so aroused and overwhelmed he came on the spot.

And Otabek?

Otabek leaned into the touch of Yuri’s teeth, rumbling in his chest as his body milked Yuri’s. The knot grew inside him until Yuri’s thrusts could no longer dislodge it; then Yuri’s hips slowed, though his orgasm continued - would continue for quite some time. His teeth kneaded Otabek’s neck, intrigued by the veins of it, the thick scent of it. He rested his jaw around Otabek’s throat, almost tender.

Much like Yuri had frozen under Victor’s hold, Otabek stayed still under Yuri’s, in full surrender, body shivering with every pulse of Yuri’s knot. Yuri’s muffled grunts and groans buzzed against Otabek’s skin, jaw squeezing just enough to leave little indentations, and then instinct kicked in again.

He lifted one of his legs, trying several times to twist before he finally managed to get his leg over Otabek’s back. He settled ass to ass. The motion pulled his cock back between his legs, and the giant bulb of his knot drew painfully on Otabek’s asshole. Or it should have been painful, but Otabek made no such indication. The tie held strong, and if anything, the languid rolling motion of Otabek’s hips only increased.

“Why did I do that?” Yuri gasped.

“Instinct,” Otabek grunted, breathing heavy. “If we’re facing away from each other… we can defend against any other rowdy alphas.”

Yuri groaned. 

“Most older alphas I know stop doing it. But they mark, too. Makes you feel safer.”

“Yeah. Yeah - Are you OK?” Yuri asked, barely coherent, pumping Otabek full of his seed. He had sudden flashes of covering Otabek in it, of planting babies in Otabek’s belly, of defending Otabek against anyone who tried to steal his honor. He growled beneath his breath at the fantasy, overwhelmed at the incessant needs of his body.

“Mmm,” Otabek replied, squeezing, tightening. It made Yuri’s cock jump. Made him lose his train of thought entirely. “How…” Otabek panted, caught his breath, “...How long do you normally tie?”

Yuri had no idea. “Until Victor tries to bite me,” he muttered.

Otabek let out a silent snort. “ _Omečko_ don’t bite. Usually.”

“Then we’ll find out,” Yuri blushed. “… Is it OK?”

“I’ve come four times already.”

Otabek reached back, rubbing Yuri’s thigh. He kept touching Yuri, soothing, purring, and grinding out more orgasms until Yuri’s knot had softened and shrunk enough to slide out.

Yuri had never been more proud, looking at that clear whitish dollop of his essence leaking out of Otabek’s ass.

If _that’s_ what it felt like to mark things, Yuri really should have started ages ago.

His cock was still bright red, semi-erect and impossibly starting to harden, but Yuri, for the time being, had enough self control to worry about Otabek first. Yuri snuffled into Otabek’s ass and licked him clean, dragged his tongue over that beautiful swollen flesh while Otabek rested on his stomach. Yuri circled him, nuzzled against him, and when he was fully hard again he nosed at Otabek’s hips until Otabek lifted to hands and knees once more.

“Don’t have much down time,” Otabek asked, “do you?”

“Blockers…” Yuri managed, but his coherence was fading as he mounted Otabek, at least taking fewer thrusts to get inside.

This time, when Yuri knotted him and started to turn Otabek grabbed the loose tie around Yuri’s neck.

“Stay like this,” Otabek said, holding Yuri in place. “Please?”

Yuri growled at being restrained but Otabek looked over his shoulder, neck arched, and Yuri would do anything for him. He settled down, and when Otabek started to curl to his side Yuri moved with him, until he was spooned around Otabek, tethered inside him.

“OK?” Otabek asked. “I like this best.”

Yuri nodded, burrowing into Otabek’s neck. “You smell like me.”

“Yeah,” Otabek said. “Feels good.”

“Yeah.”

They breathed. Yuri ached in the best way possible. Otabek was slowly, continuously grinding on him, rubbing the knot inside on his sweet spots and occasionally shivering as it came to fruition.

“Do you want to smell?” Otabek asked, cupping his spend in his hand and lifting it to Yuri. Yuri’s nostrils flared open, catching a few deep breaths of Otabek’s liquid. It wasn’t like an alpha’s, thick with seed. It was watery, fainter, but it was still _Otabek_.

And Otabek was his.

Yuri’s body had never felt more satisfied.

“Otabek… how do you know… how do you know if you really want someone, or if it’s just… instinct?”

Otabek shifted underneath Yuri, turning onto his back with his closest leg to Yuri lifted to accommodate the tie. He looked into Yuri’s eyes, then lifted his chin to kiss him. Yuri’s heart rattled against his ribs. “I’ve been with other alphas before. I’ve been to parlors. I’ve had partners. When you can be on blockers, or you’re three months off cycle and still feel crazy every time you think of them?” He washed his hand through Yuri’s hair, and for the first time Yuri actually saw Otabek’s face split into a smile. He laughed, clamping on Yuri’s body, twining their legs together.

“That’s when you know it’s real.”

**Author's Note:**

> psst. I finally got a twitter ([@nomswords](https://twitter.com/nomswords)). It has some maybe important info on it if you follow me for ~cough~ other stories ~cough~.


End file.
